Tag: Anonymous

I shouldn’t say it but at first I wasn’t especially attracted to this heterosexual pornographic novel, that is a best-seller in the States and written by a “world-famous” author into the bargain. In short, I expected the worst kind of sexist prose when starting to readHer, rather reluctantly.

But the atmosphere of the novel caught my attention from the very beginning and the very brilliant style encouraged me to carry on further than the third page.

The story begins (and ends, like all good cliches do) exactly like a Hollywood musical. Somewhat like the worst of Jacques Demy’s heart-breaking stories. The scenario is carefully undated because, I imagine, of the eternal language of love, and the social context — a small college town in the south of the United States. This places the intrigue on the right level. There is nothing extraordinary or unreal about the two heroes, both of them are middle-aged and free from any emotional ties. They try to forget the social frustrations they have in common by intense sexual activity.

Just a word about Anonymous, whoever he is. For there is never any doubt that the author is a man. And the story’s narrator, who is allegedly a fictional character, is a good old-fashioned male chauvinist all through the novel. Fortunately he is gifted with sensitivity, which allows me to feel some sympathy for him, as well as fascination. Of the female — sorry, the woman – we don’t know very much, except that she has “very good legs” and has a lot of trouble in reaching “real” orgasms. And as she’s forty-two, I found it surprising that she hadn’t tried it with a girl, but she definitely “loves” her lover’s penis, deliciously calling it “Irving”. Her own sex she simply calls “Matilda”.

Despite its limitations, the book is a very complete sexology manual and dictionary. The descriptions are numerous, precise and accurate. Anonymous allows himself several pleasant fantasies about sodomy, neatly packaged and not too kinky.

In fact there is nothing very disturbing in Her. It is only a few hours of pink-jacketed titillation, for everything is very conventional. It’s a lot better than David Reuben’s Everything You Always Wanted To Know About Sex and there is a good deal of celluloid romance too.